Engaging the Enemy

by Susanne Bellamy

  Matt turned more slowly, sliding one arm around her waist. His gentle squeeze reassured her and when he greeted Lexie, his voice betrayed no embarrassment, only gentle good humour. ‘Good morning to you, Ms Hamilton-Smythe. I can see you’ve heard our news.’

  ‘Yes, but don’t expect me to congratulate you. I’m sure Andie will come to her senses soon enough and then we’ll see.’

  ‘Thanks for that vote of confidence.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Come here, Jordan. Andie’s busy right now.’

  ‘Bye.’ Jordan ran across and jumped into Lexie’s arms.

  She turned and carried the little boy in the direction of the kitchen. A moment later the door closed decisively.

  Andie heaved a sigh. ‘She doesn’t believe our engagement.’

  ‘After our little demonstration, she believes. But she’s not convinced I’m the man for you. Will she come gunning for me when it’s over?’

  A chill crept up her spine. ‘Maybe. Probably. Did you know she was there all the time? Is that why you kissed me?’

  He didn’t answer straightaway and she watched as his jaw clenched, the muscles tightening as his lips pressed together. He looked away and released his hold on her waist, putting a respectable distance between them. ‘You played your role very well, Trouble. I was almost convinced you were for real.’

  Her stomach sank. It was worse than she thought. He wasn’t remotely interested in her yet she’d thrown herself into the kiss like there was no tomorrow. And with Jordan right beside her. Could she feel any worse?

  ‘I can’t do this. It won’t work.’

  ‘You can’t back out now, Andie. Let’s go out for coffee so we can plan our story without being disturbed. We have to make it look real.’

  Real? Reality was based on lies. Everything about this relationship was fake. Including his kisses.

  Not everything is fake, a tiny voice inside her whispered. I’m not faking it. But he is.

  Better she didn’t forget that again.

  ‘Come on, Trouble. For better or worse, it’s already underway.’

  ***

  ‘I don’t want it.’ She folded her arms tightly across her chest and sat back in the club chair. The clatter of china and hiss of the espresso machine echoed her annoyance.

  Mahoney’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he picked up the discarded ring box.

  ‘Don’t you like it? I thought the emerald complimented your eyes rather well. Of course, if you prefer a big, sparkly diamond…’

  ‘I won’t wear your ring. Any ring.’

  ‘Don’t women love jewellery? I thought that was a universal given. Jewellery plus proposal equals happy.’

  ‘Look, it’s bad enough you’ve forced me to agree to—’

  ‘No force involved as I recall.’ His eyes darkened to flint in the low light and she flinched at the recollection.

  No, he hadn’t forced her. She’d tumbled into agreement readily enough all by herself. ‘Blackmail, then. Or will you salve your conscience with the thought I’m getting something I want out of this?’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’ Why did he tangle her thoughts until she couldn’t construct a sensible, logical argument? She huffed and crossed her legs and glared at Mahoney.

  ‘Then what is the point, Andie? You agreed to be my fiancée and I agreed to let you stay in my building. And replace the kitchen first I recall.’ A humourless smile twitched his lips but his eyes were bleak. Where was the passionate man of last night?

  ‘We have a business deal. Part of that deal is you fulfilling your role as my fiancée, and my fiancée will wear an engagement ring. If you can’t stand this one you can change it, but wear one you will.’

  How do you get yourself into such situations, Andie?

  Fuming was pointless. To be in partnership with him because of The Shelter made no sense but she had agreed to the deal. They’d kissed to seal it and now, whether she liked it or not, she had to honour it.

  Because a promise was a promise.

  She yanked the ring from its satin bed and shoved it on her finger. ‘There. Happy?’

  ‘Aye, Trouble, you’ve made me the happiest of men.’

  ‘I’m glad it takes so little to make you happy.’

  ‘I’m easily pleased. You’ll find me to be an undemanding sort of fiancé, I promise.’

  ‘You promise? So you’ll respect my wishes to — not to—’

  ‘I can’t promise anything until you tell me what it is you’ll be wanting.’

  Mouth dry, she struggled with voicing the embarrassment of what she needed. Longing for his kisses was useless; they promised what he wouldn’t deliver. What he was incapable of giving, at least to her. Warmth rose in her face, but she met his amused eyes.

  ‘No kissing.’

  Head tilted, Mahoney’s expression was quizzical. ‘Now how will we convince anyone we’re serious if we don’t kiss?’

  ‘That’s your problem. No kissing in the contract I agreed to.’

  ‘Hmm, you must have had an earlier copy of the contract than mine but, I’ll tell you what. In the spirit of friendship and good business practice, I won’t kiss you unless you invite me to. Will that do you? What could be fairer?’

  What was the catch? Mahoney didn’t cave so easily. She examined his offer upside down and inside out. What was the catch?

  Like you’ll be inviting him anyway? It’s fine. You have the control here. Accept it.

  ‘Done. No kissing.’

  ‘Unless you invite me to.’

  ‘You’re dreaming, Mahoney.’

  ‘Perhaps. Stranger things have happened than you asking for my kisses.’

  ‘How do you fit your head through the doorway?’

  ‘Ah lass, I’m in no danger of developing a big head with you to keep things real. Why, you’re even starting to sound like a wife-to-be.’

  She tightened her hands into fists and her muscles bunched, ready to flee.

  Don’t panic. It’s not real.

  Then she caught sight of his mouth twitching. He was teasing. While she’d like nothing more than to swipe that smile off his face, why give him the satisfaction?

  She shrugged and leaned back and laid her arms along the sides of her chair. He’d get no more rises out of her today. She traced her finger along the swirling pattern in the fabric while she fought temptation and the unfamiliar sensation of wanting to charge into battle with him. Mahoney brought out the worst in her.

  Take charge, Andie.

  ‘So, Mahoney, how did we meet?’

  Chapter Eleven

  He was all thumbs. For the second time he pulled the wonky Windsor knot undone then yanked the offending neckwear off and glared at it. ‘Who’s the eejit who came up with such a nonsensical piece of men’s clothing in the first place? Had to be an Englishman,’ he muttered.

  ‘What’d you say, Matt?’ From his laptop on top of the tallboy, Ma’s voice emerged as though she was in the room with him and not Skyping from half a world away.

  ‘Not a thing, me darlin’. D’you think I can get away without a tie?’

  ‘I’ve always thought they made a man look important, businesslike. But it’s your engagement you’re celebrating tonight, not a business deal. Lose the tie. I’m sure your girl won’t complain if she’s got less to unwrap later.’

  He guffawed. And wouldn’t that set Andie off with Ma giving her tacit blessing to a pre-marital romp. ‘Since when have you approved of — er — unwrapping before the wedding night, Ma? Best not say that to Andie when you meet her.’

  ‘Why not? What’s wrong with her?’

  ‘Naught wrong, but she’s a trifle shy.’

  ‘Shy is she? You’re a fine man, Matthew Mahoney, the best there is. And I can’t wait to meet the lass who’s captured your heart. I know she’s special and it matters naught if she’s shy now. You’ll have no trouble curing her of it, I’m sure.’ A shimmer glistened in her eyes and she sniffled. Her fac
e disappeared from the screen. When she reappeared, it was with a handkerchief to her nose.

  ‘If only your dad were here to see this day.’

  ‘I’m thankful you’re coming out from Ireland to see it, Ma.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be thinkin’ I’d be missing my own son’s wedding, I hope.’

  ‘You do know we’ll not be marrying right away, Ma?’

  ‘Ah, thank goodness, Matt. I was worrying you’d a need to marry when it happened so sudden like. Though I don’t want to be kept waiting too long for my grandchild to appear.’

  ‘Naught like that, Ma.’

  ‘Who’d have thought — a Mahoney and a de Villiers would make a match of it?’

  ‘Stranger things have happened, Ma.’

  ‘And you’ve told her about the house? She knows?’

  Matt’s stomach clenched at the thought of that conversation still to come. ‘She will, before you arrive. It’s — not been the right time to tell her.’

  A muted voice spoke behind Ma and she turned away. ‘I’m coming.’ Her sigh as she turned back to him echoed his longing. ‘I have to go, Matt. Sorry this was so short, but I’ll see you in three days. Tell that girl before it’s too late. And Matt — lose the tie.’

  Her image winked out.

  He tossed the tie onto the bed.

  Shy? Sure Andie was shy, but her kisses near drove him to distraction. Maybe it was a good thing she’d invoked the no kissing rule. Steely resolve was the only thing that had kept him from whisking her off somewhere private yesterday.

  And a certain young man’s presence.

  He covered his eyes and groaned softly. How could he have mauled Andie with her son hanging on to her leg? What sort of an unfeeling git was he?

  The sort who loses control over a warm body and eyes like a deep forest pool.

  But it was more than that.

  The memory of her petite frame snuggled into his chest made him forget he didn’t deserve happiness. Her lush mouth on his warmed and distracted him. When her arms had crept up around his neck, he felt as though he could conquer mountains and be the man she could depend on. Worthy of her trust.

  To be there.

  And that was no good when so much depended on maintaining this charade.

  Because he wasn’t trustworthy.

  His nine-year-old self had thought Ma had sent five-year-old Paddy to join him when his baby brother had appeared on the riverbank. But the fish were jumping in the stream and a little brother’s chatter had scared them away.

  Air whooshed out of his lungs and he groped for the edge of the bed. Even now in his nightmares he heard Paddy slide down the muddy bank, the shower of stones plopping in the still waters around his fishing line, heard his own voice shouting, ‘Go home, Paddy, go home to Ma. I’m busy and you’ve scared off all the fish. Now I’ll have to start again.’ Paddy had stuck his thumb in his mouth and stared, tears brimming over his pink cheeks, and then run along the bank to the lane, to the car that never saw him.

  Paddy was dead because he’d been too selfish to look out for his little brother. His mother had placed her trust in him and he’d failed them all.

  He didn’t deserve the happiness Ma wished for him. Or the joy of a child. He deserved only loneliness. Trouble’s anxious demand had simply made it easier for him to avoid temptation.

  No kissing.

  Except that Trouble’s clear green eyes and soft mouth were going to challenge his restraint to the limit.

  ***

  For the hundredth time Andie scanned the restaurant, checking the entry for a tall Irishman. He was late. Or she was early. Butterflies whirled in a mad dance in her stomach and she hugged both arms across her middle. ‘Would you like a drink while you wait, madam?’ The waiter paused beside her, topping up her water while she dragged her attention back to the present.

  ‘No. I’ll just wait for my — dinner companion.’

  No way could she utter the other word. The unreal word. The term that made no sense in her relationship with Mahoney.

  ‘Thanks.’ She reached for her water glass and took a long drink. The waiter moved on to the next table, and she turned to the view.

  City lights danced on the Yarra River as a tourist ferry cut a path under the Flinders Street bridge. Who turned up to a restaurant like this alone, for goodness sake? Rather than let Mahoney pick her up at The Shelter, she’d insisted on meeting him here. He hadn’t liked it, not one bit. Perhaps he’d guessed she’d been thinking of simply not turning up but she’d won the argument.

  Victory was hollow. She should have followed that instinct. How could she have been so naïve as to agree to meet Mahoney like this? A restaurant where anyone could see them and start asking questions? What would they think seeing her alone with the most eligible bachelor in Melbourne? Except he wasn’t here and she was sitting like a shag on a rock amidst tables of couples and groups.

  A knife clattered on the table behind her, and laughter boomed from the neighbouring booth. Surrounded by people, she’d never felt more alone. Or more obvious.

  What had she been thinking?

  Calm down, girl. You could be meeting to discuss the building or a donation.

  Why should anyone assume this was more than a business meeting?

  It is. Business and nothing more. Remember that, Andrea-you’re-not-going-to-kiss-him-no-matter-what-de Villiers.

  Her lips parted at the thought of his sensual mouth teasing hers and her heartbeat kicked up several notches. His reputation was deserved if the mere thought of him had her so hot and lusting after his kisses. She picked up her water again, surprised to find she’d almost drained the glass, and drank the last mouthful. As she lifted the silver water jug to top up her glass, it dripped, adding to the condensation ring on the checked table cloth. Carefully, she replaced it in the same spot then ran a finger down its side, puddling more water at its base.

  ‘Andie, sorry I’m running late.’

  Mahoney’s voice jangled nerves already on edge. Her hand jerked and the jug tipped.

  With lightning reflexes, he caught and righted it then shot her a sidelong glance. Warm breath brushed her neck as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. ‘Settle down, Andie. I’m not going to eat you.’

  Startled, she turned. Midnight-blue eyes filled her vision, and a light woodsy cologne tantalised her senses. Tailored and tie-less, casual suited him.

  Eat her? She could eat him.

  Down, girl.

  ‘Though you’re mouth-wateringly lovely. Maybe I’ll jump straight to dessert.’ He dropped a light kiss on her cheek. She froze as his warm lips traced a path to her ear and lingered. His nose nudged her earlobe, and his warm breath drew goose bumps along her arm. Was he going to make good on his threat?

  Somewhere further south of the party where his lips teased her skin, heat pulsed. She closed her eyes and breathed in. Beneath the pine notes of cologne lay the scent of skin-warmed sandalwood and beyond that lay the scent of Mahoney himself.

  She drew a deeper breath.

  An insane desire popped into her head. The smallest turn and she’d brush her lips against his, taste him, tempt him to lose control again.

  The thought of his kisses filled her mouth and the juncture of her thighs with moisture. It scared her. It thrilled her, the heady mix of control and desire she’d tasted yesterday.

  What if he kisses you properly?

  You’re in a restaurant in the middle of the city. And you’re not kissing him.

  She pressed her palms into the seat. Fighting the impulse, she held her body still until he straightened and winked at her.

  Heat flared in her face. Did he know what she was thinking? She couldn’t keep giving up control just because one look from him melted her bones. Where was her resolve? Her dignity? Aiming for a Serena-like tone, she arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Goodness knows why I agreed to be your fiancée.’

  ‘But you are mine, Andie. You’ve agreed to marry me, darlin’.’

  ‘W
ho said anything about marriage?’

  Fake fiancée, that’s all she was, and a reluctant one at that. He’d insisted there was no more to it. As if she’d try to make more. As if she wanted there to be more.

  She sat back on the bench seat, as far from him as the confined space allowed. ‘And we agreed — no kissing.’

  He laughed. ‘That was no kiss, Andie. That was a greeting like friends give one another. Fiancés kiss differently…like lovers.’ His velvet voice deepened, filling the final word with promise and she shivered.

  He was too close, too tempting, too everything. His eyes darkened and his gaze roamed her face. Of course he knew how lovers kissed. How many had he known?

  She cleared her throat. ‘I know what a kiss is.’

  ‘Do you?’

  His hand engulfed hers, his thumb stroking down her ring finger. He lifted her hand and raised an inquiring eyebrow at the nakedness of that finger.

  ‘Did you forget something?’

  ‘I — I thought I was late. I must have forgotten—’

  ‘But we have an agreement, Trouble. If you’re going to renege on parts of it, I should have the same right not to uphold every clause. And I know precisely which clause I’ll throw out.’

  He interlocked his fingers with hers and raised their joined hands to his mouth. Fascinated by his slow, deliberate movement, she watched him lower his head, followed the slow tease of his lips over her skin. She trembled as his firm lips traced a path along her knuckles. Tingles raced through her body, all the way to the tips of her toes and back. North and south, her traitorous body heated, drawn to him like a magnet.

  She ran her tongue over dry lips and muttered low enough that no one could overhear them. ‘No fair. We have an agreement — no kissing. We’re talking about this later.’

  ‘To be sure we are. Because if you think that constitutes a kiss, you’ve a lot to learn. And I’m looking forward to teaching you the difference.’

  ‘You’re not teaching me anything, Matthew Mahoney. Kissing or…or anything. And I didn’t deliberately forget to wear the blasted thing. I just forgot.’

  ‘Hmm, so long as you allow I might just forget too.’